The Cage is Full - 87th Hunger Games (SYOT)
by dunshine
Summary: "In the end, the Games are simply a story only one will get to tell." Let the 87th Hunger Games begin! (SYOT)
1. You've Got Time

" **T** **he light was off, but now it's on. Searching underground for a bit of sun  
The sun is out, the day is new, and everyone is waiting, waiting on you**"

— _You've Got Time -_ Regina Spektor

* * *

Chapter 1: You've Got Time

* * *

There have been three times when President Clio Peche has felt true weakness, when she has realized that things are getting out of her control.

The first time is on a brisk autumn day. Clio had been on a walk in Sector Nine, enjoying the quaint and sophisticated shops the Sector had to offer.

Hands wrapped around a latte seasoned with pumpkin, body warmed by a mustard yellow peacoat, crunching up leaves under her heels, Clio Peche felt at ease.

And then she saw it.

A glimmer of gold in the corner of her eye. She spun 'round to face it, sure it was going to be a golden necklace that would make a lovely gift for her niece who, at twelve years old, already had a fascination with expensive golden things.

Clio almost screamed at what she saw. A golden mockingjay, sketched roughly with chalk on the window of a boutique, then quickly filled in with paint.

The President tilted her head and saw the shop owner standing behind his desk, daring the President to make a move. Clio noticed the small golden dot drawn on with eyeliner under his left eye.

She plastered a smile on her face, tightened her grip around her coffee, and made a mental note of the name of the shop.

The shop mysteriously burned down the next day.

The second time Clio Peche noticed things were getting out of control was when she attended a meeting.

It was a normal day for Clio. Early rise at 6:00 A.M sharp. Slipping into a black sheathe dress. Handed a cup of tea by the redheaded Avox. A 10 minute journey to the office by hovercar.

Clio walked into the conference room and took her position at the head of the table, placing her cup of tea next to her.

She skimmed the papers placed in front of her before speaking. "Tavia, what's the update?"

"Well, District Four's export is half the size as it typically is. District Seven has had three forest fires in the past two months, District Twelve had a mine collapse the other day, and District-"

Clio sighed and locked eyes with the Head Gamemaker. "Do you have any good news for me, Tavia? Truly, I'm tired of- _What is that_?"

Tavia raised a pink eyebrow and looked down at her outfit, inspecting herself for imperfections. "What do you mean, Madame President?"

"That... That thing..." The President raised a shaky finger and pointed at Tavia's face. "On your face..."

Under Tavia's left eye, a perfect dot of gold was drawn.

The Gamemaker's eyes lit up, a grin taking up her face. "Do you like it? Everyone's getting them, though _I'm_ the first one to get it tattooed. Everyone else is just drawing it on, which, if you ask me, is kinda-"

"What does it mean?"

At this, Tavia's smile fell. "Er, I never really thought about it. My hair stylist, Calli, says it's a trend from the Districts."

Clio's eyes scanned the rest of the conference table. Every Peacekeeper, every Gamemaker, had the same dot under their eye. Even the Avox standing in the corner was adorning the gold fashion statement.

When Clio took a closer look, she noticed that a little less than half of them were sporting the mockingjay. A Gamemaker wore a necklace with it, a Peacekeeper wore a ring with the bird stamped on it.

Clio ordered an entirely new team of Gamemakers, Peacekeepers, and Avoxes to come in the next day.

The third and last time Clio Peche felt weak was during tea with her niece.

It was summer break for the young girl. She was fresh out of elementary school and had an excited gleam in her eyes.

"And mom says we might get to visit the Arena from the 79th games. Remember those? It was, like, a tropical rainforest. Y'know, with all the pretty plants and stuff."

Clio nodded absentmindedly, stirring up the raspberry tea infront of her. "That's great, dear."

Although the President was usually excited to see her niece, today she had other things on her mind. The new Head Gamemaker, Reyna Casse, refused to tell her her plans for the Arena, and with only weeks until the Games begun, the President's stress levels were sky rocketing.

Not to mention, Clio had her eyes on the necklace wrapped around her niece's neck.

It was a thin, gold piece of intricately braided rope. There were small strings of red braided throughout the necklace.

Clio recognized it immediately.

In last year's games, the final three was Halsey Feldspar of District One, Onyx Emmer of District Ten, and the dainty twelve year old Jersey Melino.

Onyx and Jersey had teamed up when the older boy found Jersey crying by herself and had somehow made it to the finals by hiding out.

Halsey, on the other hand, offered to take first watch for the Careers and ended up killing all of them in their sleep. She was a Capitol fan favorite; Halsey received an abundance of sponsor gifts and had, according to the polls, 80% of Capitolites rooting for her.

The Career tracked Onyx and Jersey down, and ended up hanging Jersey with a piece of braided rope. She left Jersey's body hanging in a tree for Onyx to find before slaughtering him with her sword.

Jersey's death had caused a small uprising in the Districts. They wondered how a seventeen year old girl could possibly so cruel, and how a government could allow _it_ \- the Games - to happen.

"I love your necklace, dear," Clio decided to say with a smile. "Where'd you get it?"

Her niece's fingers stroked the rope around her neck while she looked down at it with a grin. "Cute, innit? All the boutiques in Sector Five are selling them. The lady told me it's a trend from the Districts!"

The President crushed a crumpet in her hand and the next day, an alarming number of boutiques in Sector Five were closed.

A week after her encounter with her niece, the President was due for another meeting, this time with only the Head Gamemaker.

Clio attempted to hide her anxiety while sitting at her desk, re-positioning things that were just fine before. The Districts were just as anxious as the President, with only one week until the Games.

Imports from all Districts had slowed. Clio had no idea what the Arena was. Rope necklaces, mockingjays, and gold dots were still relevant.

The President was almost relieved when Reyna swung open the door and dragged her away from her thoughts.

"Reyna, it's lovely to see you," the two women shook hands. "I hope today will be the day you tell me your plans for the Arena, yeah?"

The Gamemaker laughed and flipped her long, black hair over her shoulder. "Actually, President Peche, before I do, I'd like to speak to you about something I'm sure you've noticed."

The President bit her inner cheek and nodded.

"The mockingjays," Reyna said simply.

Clio forced herself to look into Reyna's emotionless eyes. "I don't know what you mean, Gamemaker."

Reyna rolls her eyes and crosses her arms in a placating way. "Despite your efforts to make everyone forget Katniss Everdeen and the rebellion all those years ago, I haven't forgotten. The symbol is back, the mockingjay is-"

"Katniss Everdeen is _dead_. Peeta Mellark is _dead_. All Victors from the 75th Hunger Games are _dead_. There is no threat. There is no mockingjay."

"Have you looked around, Peche? Everyone and their mother is walking around here with a mockingjay and saying it's a trend from the Districts."

Reyna's nostrils flared as she glared at the President. "These Games are our chance to control the flames, President. Everyone is looking to you as the Games begin. There's tension in the Districts. We can stop the fire from spreading."

As the word "How?" escaped from her mouth, President Clio Peche realized that was the fourth time in her life she felt true weakness, that things were out of her control.

The President's display of weakness causes Reyna to smirk. "We make the Games more deadly than ever."

Clio recovered quickly from her moment of weakness with a smirk. "Congratulations, Reyna, you've turned into a cliche Gamemaker who believes their Arena is God's gift to the world."

President for seven years, Clio Peche had her fair share of Gamemakers. They had all promised their Arena would be the most deadly, the most amazing, the most incredible. They had all disappointed her.

Reyna simply stared at the President, unfazed. "If you don't want my help, then fine. Suit yourself. You can sit in your office with a cup of tea as the Districts rebel. That's perfectly fine."

Clio narrowed her eyes and leaned across the desk. "Show me the Arena."

Much to Clio's content, Reyna pulled a hologram projector from her pocket with the absence of a smirk _or_ a sarcastic remark.

"The inspiration behind this arena," Reyna began the as the projector booted up. "Was pop culture before the Dark Days. It's based off a popular movie series. My daughter introduced it to me, actually."

Both women's faces were suddenly flushed in a neon blue light as the hologram appeared, hovering right above the President's desk.

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile appeared on Clio's face. "It looks great," she admitted, sticking her head closer. "I've never seen anything like it... You.. You did good, Reyna."

The words can't quite express how truly relieved the President felt. For weeks, the Hunger Games had been eating at her. Combined with the threat of a rebellion, Clio hadn't had a moment where she has felt relaxed. Reyna's Arena, however, sent a jolt of calmness down the President's spine.

"Thank you, President."

The President examined the Cornucopia, sticking a finger through the hologram to entertain herself. "I have to ask, Reyna," she stated. "What movie exactly inspired this Arena?"

Reyna grinned, as though she had been waiting for the President to ask. "It was very popular back in the day, though I don't expect you to have heard of it. I must add, the Arena isn't an exact replica of it, however we Gamemakers drew great inspiration from it. Consider the Arena our own little twist on the film."

Clio raised an eyebrow, encouraging the Head Gamemaker to continue.

"It was a series, actually. It was called Jurassic Park."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hi! This is my first SYOT, and first story, here. I've had this Arena idea bouncing around in my head for awhile, and decided it might be fun to turn it into a SYOT. The forum is on my profile, and be sure to PM me it, not send it in a review (though that may be common sense).

I hope you guys will submit and enjoy the story!


	2. Twenty Seven

" **If home is where the heart is then we're all just fucked**  
 **I can't remember, I can't remember, and I want it so bad**  
 **I'd shoot the sunshine into my veins; I can't remember the good old days** "

— _27_ by Fall Out Boy

* * *

Chapter 2: Twenty Seven

* * *

The media has labeled Reyna Casse as "a prodigy, a hero, a creator". The woman seems to come from nowhere, a graduate of Panem's number one college (majoring in Chemical Engineering with a minor in astrophysics, which they always seem to leave out in the tabloids). She worked a part time job as an intern for a Gamemaker thanks to her family's connections, and just two years later, became an official Gamemaker.

A college degree under her belt and years of experience, Reyna was the head mutt maker for the Games. She created dozens of mutts, weaving them together with just a wave of her hand at the age of nineteen.

At twenty-three, Reyna became one of the top graphic designers on the Hunger Games team and singlehandedly, changed the physics behind the Arena. Reyna creates the first floating Arena, seemingly defying the laws of gravity.

When she's twenty-four, Reyna volunteered for the role of Head Gamemaker. It came as a shock to many, why the new mother who previously insisted she would never want to be Head Gamemaker suddenly lunged at the opportunity.

The 85th Games were Reyna's first, and they go smoothly with a classic Career from District Two coming out on top. When the Games are over and Reyna is asked again and again why she volunteered as Head Gamemaker, she never knows quite what to say. She doesn't know why she volunteered, either.

A week before the 87th Hunger Games, Reyna is five drinks in at President Peche's niece's birthday party. It's held at the President's Manor, and Reyna admits it's strange seeing young children running around the usually formal mansion.

The Head Gamemaker downs her third shot of tequila and waves away the lime slice handed to her. The alcohol makes its way to her stomach and she keeps a straight face as it does. Reyna Casse is no stranger to the burn of alcohol, and it has become a friend to her.

Reyna makes her way onto the balcony, carefully planning a route around the Gamemakers, parents of children, and cameras. The crisp air hits her sharply as she opens the double doors. She stares out at the scenery before her; the President placed her manor in the midst of a photo-worthy forest.

In the middle of summer, the trees around the mansion are bright green. If Reyna squints, she can just make out a lake in the distance with a waterfall pouring into it. The Head Gamemaker respects the President's decision to place her home here. In years past, the Presidential Manor has typically been placed in the center of Sector One. President Peche was the first to request a change.

Living in this mansion in the middle of almost nowhere, it's easy to forget the hustle and bustle of the Capitol. Reyna is reminded of it everytime she peers out of the windows of her own home; the bright lights greet her and the perky colorful citizens running about haunt her.

Reyna leans against the railing, staring out at the trees. Despite the abundance of alcohol in her system, Reyna's vision is sharp. It takes more than three shots of tequila to affect her at this point.

"Head Gamemaker Casse?"

Reyna feels her shoulders immediately square and her posture straighten at the sound of Mania Miles, the Capitol's most popular television host (after Caesar Flickerman, of course).

"We're wondering if you have a statement you want to put out. You know, before the Games begin," Reyna spins around to face Miles. Today, Miles' hair is navy blue and tied in a tight bun at the top of her head. "We've been trying to get one from President Peche, but she told us to get one from you, instead."

The Head Gamemaker plasters a smile on her face along with a nod. "Of course. Where do you want me to stand?"

Miles' face lights up in a grin and turns over her shoulder, calling out to her crew. Immediately, three men hurry out onto the balcony. One of them sets down a camera, angling it towards Reyna. Miles looks into the camera's viewfinder and sticks out a hand, waving Reyna to move to the left. To the right. Back to the left. Forward. To the right. "... _Aaaand_ , perfect!"

The woman accepts a microphone from one of the men and scurries into the camera's view, planting herself down next to Reyna. The Gamemaker holds her breath to avoid inhaling Miles' sickly sweet perfume.

The man behind the camera holds up three fingers and puts one down with each second. Once all three are down, he points at Miles.

"Hell _ooooo_ , Panem! I'm Miles Mania, here with your favorite, Head Gamemaker Reyna Casse!"

Reyna looks into the camera and smiles, putting her hand up in a wave.

Miles slings an arm around Reyna's waist as she speaks. "As we all know, the 87th Hunger Games are just around the corner! Although the Arena has been on the down low, we're glad to say that Reyna has agreed to give us a sneak peek!"

Reyna keeps smiling despite her need to roll her eyes at the way Miles has, as always, twisted her words.

Once Miles has shoved the microphone in her face, Reyna takes a deep breath and gives another smile. "It's an honor to be Head Gamemaker for these games. I give my deepest gratitude to President Peche and my fellow Gamemakers,"

"And," she adds at the last second. "All of you, of course, for allowing me to continue to create these Games. I am pleased to announce that these Games will be unforgettable. They will not be _extinct_ from anyone's minds."

Miles swings the mic back towards her. "You heard it here first, folks!"

Reyna is free.

The rest of the party is a blur of pretty pink cake, children giggling as they run around, and stuffy parents with wine in their hands. Even in her almost-drunk state, she notices the flashes of gold several of the adults adorn somewhere on their outfits. Reyna reckons President Peche will have a word with her about it in the morning.

Throughout the night, Reyna is stopped by multiple interviewers, and by ten o'clock, she has been interviewed five times, each time with a drink in hand.

 _I'm not drunk enough for this,_ Reyna thinks to herself in the midst of a particularly pathetic interview with an orange-haired man. Her glass is filled and emptied three times during the orange interview.

While walking into the study, Reyna swipes a long island iced tea from a passing waiter and sips it. She enjoys these few quiet minutes in the President's study, admiring the hundreds of books lining the shelves as she absentmindedly sips her drink.

The smell in the room reminds her of her childhood home. No Capitol-created-cotton-candy sweet scent. Just lemon cleaner and old book scent. Reyna sets down her now empty glass and runs a finger along one of the shelves.

Reyna's nostalgia and the warm feeling in her stomach disappears when her assistant, Winnie, and a purple-skinned interviewer rush in.

"He's from 'Good Morning Sector Three'," Winnie whispers as she hands Reyna a bright red bloody Mary. "Tell him the same thing you told the girl from 'Good Morning Sector One'."

The next morning, Reyna awakes with a pounding headache and a whirl of thoughts swarming in her head. _These Games will be unforgettable,_ _Won't become extinct, I'm forever grateful, My greatest gratitude..._

In the mirror, her skin looks paler than usual, almost paper-white with the reminiscence of lavender dye. Platinum blond hair with hundreds of flyaways surrounding her round face. Injected lips with the absence of color.

Reya slips into her typical work outfit, grateful for the Stylists who meet her downstairs who immediately attack her with an assortment of cosmetics. When they deem her presentable for the cameras that no doubt are waiting for her outside, Reyna is released.

As soon as she gets into the black limo waiting for her, Winnie hands her a glass of orange juice. The glass, in Reyna's opinion, is far too fancy for a simple juice; long stem and swirls etched into the glass. Reyna sniffs it. She's right.

After ten minutes and two glasses, Reyna is escorted out of the limo and into Headquarters. Winnie hands her a pile of binders and papers just before Reyna is released on her own.

Reyna holds tightly onto the stack as she makes her way down the halls. Every nook and cranny of the pure white building is etched into Reyna's mind. Her legs guide her into President Peche's office for the routine morning check-in.

"Good morning, Reyna," President Peche greets her.

Had Reyna not been at the party herself, she would have never known the President was up until 2 o'clock partying. Her skin was flawless, eyes clear, red hair smooth. Reyna liked to imagine she looked just as flawless, kissed by the Capitol's makeup.

"Good morning," Reyna responds, taking her seat in the black leather chair in front of Peche's desk. "What can I do for you this morning?"

President Peche grins at Reyna's formality. "I assume you've done your research in the Districts, yeah?"

Reyna recognizes what she means instantly and begins to sort through her pile of papers. "Certainly," Reyna thumbs through them rapidly. "I've had it done for ages." It's a lie, of course. Reyna had only finished up the last bit of research in District Twelve two days ago.

She hands over a thin white paper to the President, who thanks her with a nod.

"Districts One, Two, and Four are volunteers," Reyna adds as the President skims the sheet. "I spoke to the Acadamies just weeks ago."

President Peche places the sheet down with a smile. "It looks wonderful, Reyna," she praises. "You've done a fantastic job, as always," Reyna can hear the hesitation in her voice and can already guess what's next.

"Now, I want to speak with you about something I'm sure you noticed at the party last night. _._."

As the President launches into a spiel about the golden mockingjays adorning everyones' outfits ( _We have to stop them! What if this affects the Games? I might have to take a visit to the Districts before them_...), Reyna digs her nails into her palms and daydreams about Winnie handing her another glass of 'orange juice'.

Reyna likes President Peche, of course. She's a woman who knows what she wants, which Reyna has always admired. However, Clio Peche has a tendency to focus on things that don't matter. Reyna regretted telling Peche about the mockingjay fad in the Districts two days ago at 3 A.M. when Clio had called her, asking if she had any ideas to stop the mockingjay trend from spreading. After the Games began, the Districts' fascination with the mockingjay would disappear.

After they see _her_ arena.

Reyna decides to occupy herself with something else and instead focuses her eyes on the sheet of paper still resting on the President's desk. Licking the reminiscence of the orange juice off her lips, Reyna reads the sheet for the hundredth time.

 **TRIBUTE LIST FOR THE 87TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES:  
**

 **District One**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

 **District Two**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

 **District Three**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male_

 **District Four**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

 **District Five**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

 **District Six**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

 **District Seven**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_ Jazer Winwood, 16

 **District Eight**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

 **District Nine**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

 **District Ten**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male_ : Clint Hawkins, 18

 **District Eleven**  
 _Female_ : Blossom Kalbin, 14  
 _Male:_

 **District Twelve**  
 _Female:_  
 _Male:_

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you guys enjoyed this! I wrote this just to introduce you all to the Head Gamemaker, and also introduce the tribute list in a more unique way. I know it's a bit funny since there's only three tributes at the moment haha, but hopefully you were able to look past that. (:

I've also got a blog for this story now. There's no tributes on it yet (waiting to get all the spots filled before I post them), but you can take a look at some of the Capitolites! thecageisfull87. blogspot. com


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